You Don't Have a Stress Problem. You Have a Life Management Problem.

That phrase didn’t come from a deep personal breakdown. I didn’t write it in the middle of a crisis or after a breakthrough coaching session. I was just reading one morning, and the words came out of the page and onto my notepad.

“You don’t have a stress problem. You have a life management problem.”

It’s been sitting with me ever since. And the more I reflect on it, the more I realize how often it applies—to others, sure, but mostly to myself.

Because I do deal with stress. I have systems in place. I have a morning routine I like, a task manager I use, and I usually know what my priorities are. But stress still shows up. That low-level tension. That sneaky background hum of “there’s too much” or “what if I drop the ball?” Even when life’s going well, it’s still there.

And when I really look at it, stress isn’t usually about the thing I think it’s about.

It’s not the email inbox or the task I’ve been avoiding. It’s what’s going on underneath. Sometimes it’s the buildup of small things I didn’t deal with earlier. Sometimes it’s fear—usually of not being accepted, not being enough. Sometimes it’s just the way I’ve let too many things live rent-free in my head for too long. And every now and then, it’s simply exhaustion from trying to manage everything on my own, all the time.

Here’s where life management comes in—not as a buzzword, but as something real. Something that looks like taking a deep breath before diving into your inbox after a few days away. Something that looks like writing down what needs to happen this week and realizing it’s not quite as bad as it felt five minutes ago. Something that looks like getting back into a habit you drifted from—not because you’re trying to “optimize,” but because you remember how it made you feel.

Life management isn’t about perfection or control. It’s about knowing yourself well enough to know when you’re drifting off-course—and gently guiding yourself back.

It’s also about honesty. I used to tell myself I did my best work under pressure, like that made procrastination a strategy. It wasn’t. That was fear in disguise. I can see it now. I was afraid to start. Afraid I wouldn’t be accepted. Afraid it wouldn’t be good enough. GRIT took longer to become real than it should have—because of that same fear.

So no, this isn’t a lecture on how to eliminate stress. I don’t think that’s even the goal. This is a reminder—for you and for me—that we do have more say than we sometimes admit.

There’s usually something small we can do. Something next. Even if it’s just closing your eyes for a moment, taking a few slow breaths, and deciding what the next task is—not the whole mountain, just the next step.

If you’re feeling it right now—tight chest, spinning thoughts, low-grade overwhelm—don’t try to solve everything. Just ask: what’s one thing I can move on today? Not because it will fix everything, but because it’s a move forward.

That’s what life management looks like. Not doing more. Just doing the next thing with a little more clarity, and a little less noise.

And if that feels like enough for today, then it probably is.